Spilled Milk
by sherlockingtoohard
Summary: John is irritated that he has to go alone yet again to get milk but goes anyways. After a long streak of boredom Sherlock decides to sneak into the store and give his friend some help.


On a warm day in London, on the particular street where flat 221B resided, John Watson and Sherlock Holmes sat bored for the sixth day in a row.

John let out a heavy breath from his nose as he cleared his throat and turned the page of his newspaper.

"Bored, John." Sherlock, the taller of the two men, grumbled as he pulled his knees to his chest on the leather chair he was perched upon.

"What?" John inquired sounding a bit distracted. Sherlock flicked his head towards the shorter man sitting on their couch against the opposite wall, causing his black curls to wave in the wind the movement created. His feral blue eyes focused in on his flatmate scanning over every inch of his body.

"Bored! It's been nearly a week and there hasn't been anything!" He sprung from the chair and began his usual speedy pace about the room. Naturally, he was referring to a case -a murder more specifically- of which he could put his astute mind to use.

John rolled his eyes then tossed the paper down audibly to express his irritation; though he knew Sherlock would take no notice.

"What do you want me to do about it?" he huffed as he leaned forward and laced his fingers together. Sherlock paused only momentarily to shoot a 'I don't bloody know! Think of something you git!' look to John.

"Well we need milk and you could always _come with me _this time. Shopping can be f-"  
"Dull."  
"Just come with me Sherlock, we can go for a stroll afterwards...maybe someone will...get killed or something." As abhorrent an idea as that was to John it _was_ quite fun to see Sherlock doing what Sherlock does best.

"Don't be stupid, John. The chances of someone dying on a day like this are 1 out of 1,000. Given that today, in particular, is bright, warm _and a Sunday _-practically no one is out- will lend generously to a low risk-factor." He stopped in the middle of the room and put his hands in a steeple below his chin.

"Right. Sod this. I'll go alone." John slapped his hands onto his knees then marched over to the door. He gave Sherlock one last glance to offer him another chance. His flat mate remained in the same spot staring at empty space, as statuesque as ever.

John sighed sadly then turned to jog down the staircase.

"Whoops! Sorry love." Mrs. Hudson apologized as she and John bumped in the corridor.

"Quite alright. I'm just off to the store." John returned. "Good luck getting that git to do anything."

Sherlock, naturally, heard all of this and smirked to himself.

"Whoo-hoo!"

"Just tea thanks."

"Not your housekeeper." She reminded lovingly as she walked over and patted his head. Still, she made her way to the kitchen and opened the fridge carefully so no body parts would startle her.

"Oh. Love I'm sorry. You're all out of milk! I can't make any tea without milk. You'll just have to wait until John gets back."

Sherlock let out an audible "mmm" to acknowledge this, and remained still.

"You could go get some if you're so put-off you know."

"Dull."

"Oh Sherlock! Go help John for once." She scolded. This got his attention and he flicked his eyes to her. "He works hard for you and all you manage to do is lay about and complain of boredom."

He was quiet for a long moment. His eyes lay closed as he thought. Mrs. Hudson had just finished picking up some of the papers that were strewn across the floor when Sherlock jumped up and exclaimed "Aha!" nearly giving her a heart attack.

"Dear, sweet Mrs. Hudson...You're brilliant!"

She was clutching at her heart but didn't say anything as he held her forearms then kissed her cheek excitedly.

"I'll be back shortly!" Sherlock called as his blue robe landed on the floor just outside his bedroom.

Before Mrs. Hudson could reach it he was striding down the hall in his black coat with the collar turned up, and skin tight jeans sticking to his long legs.

John had just grabbed the last available jar of jam and was making his way to the till.  
Sherlock crept into the store and ignored the greeter that gave him a friendly smile. He slid past an elderly man shuffling to grab a cart and took the next.

"Please slide card." The machine commanded. John did as he was told then entered his pin.

Sherlock wandered along the dairy isle scanning carefully for the particular brand John always got. It took him longer than it would have had he ever paid attention to what John bought but he managed to find it fairly quickly.

John had just picked his bags up when he heard a loud crash coming from, what sounded like, the dairy isle. He turned his head to see several people running over and gasping. If it weren't for the attention he might have moved on and gone home but his sheer boredom drove him to march forward.  
He pushed past several people who were giggling and gasping at the mess. Soon he stepped into a huge puddle of spilled milk and looked up to find Sherlock reaching for the last gallon.  
His tongue was stuck out to the side as he strained, despite his height, to reach the milk on the top shelf. John's eyes darted and widened in horror as he saw the mountain of wobbling jugs in the cart.

"Sherlock! What the _hell _are you doing?!" He yelled as he stepped back from the lake of milk.  
Sherlock's head snapped around just as his fingers gripped the gallon. With a wide smirk he gestured towards the cart overflowing with cartons of milk.

"Look John. Milk! Now you won't have to buy it for a long time!"

John felt a plume of anger boil in his chest and he jerked his head to the side.

"Sher-" he began, but the pure innocence and joy across his friend's face was too much to ignore and he calmed instantly. "You idiot." He laughed.

Sherlock giggled and began pushing the cart forward only to have several jugs fall and bust creating such a severe racket and mess that the manager came round the corner of the isle on the far end. He blistered with anger and started a sprint towards them while yelling, "YOU IDIOTS. YOU MESSED UP MY STORE AND WASTED ME MILK! I'LL HAVE YOU ARRESTED AFTER I KICK BOTH YOUR SORRY ARSES!"

Sherlock quickly abandoned the cart and sprung towards John making an effort to snatch his hand on the way. John spun with Sherlock and tightened his grip on the bags as they ran to the front.

"Faster John!" Sherlock commanded.

"This is your fault you know that?!" John yelled, while still laughing.

Once they reached an alleyway where it was safe, John dropped the bags and bent over in winded laughter. Sherlock stood with his hands in pocket breathing heavily.

"I'm sorry John." He whispered after a minute.

"For what?" John inquired with a quick clearing of his throat.

"I didn't get the milk."

"You didn't get th-" He let himself laugh heartily for another minute before sucking in a deep breath and answering. "Sod the milk! That was _fun _Sherlock. A lot more fun than I've had in days! What the bloody hell were you thinking when you tried to pile all that milk into one cart?"

Sherlock's lips twitched upwards a bit. "I felt bad for you simply because you're always buying milk and all I can do is lay about and complain of boredom." He explained, quoting Mrs. Hudson. "So I thought you would be happy when you saw you wouldn't have to buy milk for once."

John's smile opened into an impossibly wide grin as he gazed at his friend who was now returning the smile. For a long moment they held each other's eyes, a look so intense it seemed they were exchanging thoughts.

"Come on then. Let's go buy milk." John said as he jerked his head to gesture behind them.

"You didn't buy any?" Inquired Sherlock as he took a few steps forward.

" 'Course I did. But we're going to get more. Brilliant idea Sherlock. Simply brilliant." Sherlock beamed and strode forward after snatching a bag from John's fingers. He was now in front of his friend, walking at his usual speedy pace but when he reached the end of the alley he paused to wait on him.

"Thanks."

They walked to the nearest store, ducking around the general area of where they'd just run from and eventually came to another market. Despite the inconvenience of not being able to use the previous store anymore at the risk of legal issues, John didn't mind because his friend had cared enough to get off his arse and help.  
Their six day boredom streak was broken, the best part being that John now knew his flat mate wasn't an emotionless rock who cared only for himself. He was capable of feelings and he _did _love John in his own way.

"Love you too." John murmured aloud.

"What?" Sherlock asked as he stopped and looked at John slowly with a calculating gaze.

John looked in horror at his friend as he thought of something to diffuse the bomb he'd just lit.

"I love you too, John." Sherlock whispered, his voice dropping to a deep rumble.

John looked around for a second before meeting the loving gaze of his friend.

"Platonic of course." He quipped while clearing his throat.

"Naturally." Sherlock returned with a smirk.


End file.
